


Russian Roulette

by Midnight_Luna



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternare Universe - Mafia AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Cute Yuri Plisetsky, Drinking, Dubious Consent, Guns, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Loyalty, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nicknames, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Pole Dancing, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tags May Change, Undercover Spy, multiple character death, slow development, tags not in order, yeah he's a cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-11 05:29:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Luna/pseuds/Midnight_Luna
Summary: Hasetsu is a metropolis ruled by two opposite gangs: The Diamonds and The Spades, whose ideals are as different as the people who lead them.Yuuri Katsuki, an undercover spy under Leader Minako’s orders, is working as an incognito waiter when an unexpected call makes him reconsider his work and test the biggest of his loyalties: the one to himself. With this, Yuuri must decide between sticking to the plan, or getting into the wolf’s mouth and discover the truth hidden inside dark streets.A constant battle between gangs; a lethal contract; a twisted love and thousand of questions to solve. Will Yuuri be able to stand aside with everyone against him?Spanish versionhere





	1. Prologue: Vive moriturus

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!  
> This is my very first writing for this wonderful fandom and I'm really hoping this is not the last one.  
> The story will develop a little bit slowly, so I ask you to be patient and pay attention to details because EVERYTHING HERE IS IMPORTANT.
> 
> I'm not an English native speaker, so if you see any mistakes or typos please let me know them in the comments.
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy and stick with me til the end of the story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vive Moriturus: Live thinking you are to die

The port was empty, and it was only illuminated by the dim light coming from the near buildings and security towers that guarded the containers. Viktor got quickly out of the car and launched himself into an unprecedented race in search of that damned place as his bodyguards searched the surroundings for intruders or unwanted subjects.

As he crossed the harbor, those breathless words on the phone repeated again and again in his mind: “All I wanted was… to redeem myself, I guess. I don’t know what I was thinking, really. I was an idiot, I’m sorry…”.

All he wanted was to redeem himself? From what, exactly? Was it because of what he said the other night? He didn’t have to prove his loyalty to anyone, really; all members of The Spades knew that very well, and if by any chance it wasn’t clear for one of them, Viktor would make them change their minds.

Yuuri had mentioned that he was at the port but had not specified exactly _where._ Was he referring to the area where they had agreed the “transaction” with the members of The Diamonds? If so, and according to his tone of voice on the phone, they had to find him quickly before it was too late.

Calling out his name and risking the possibilities, Viktor made his way along the snaking path of containers and cranes and turned at an intersection, where he found two bodies slumped onto the ground over their own pools of blood and with their guns still in their hands.

Viktor approached them and crouched down to examine them, though he didn’t have to do much: The Red Diamond insignia embedded on the left arm of one of them answered all his questions. Which also meant that Yuuri was near. He had to be.

He followed the bloodstained footsteps leading to a dark corner where several red containers joined together and had to suppress a scream of terror as he saw the scene in front of him: Yuuri lay collapsed in the middle of two containers, with his back against one of them and the gun held loosely in his right hand.

But the most shocking thing was the wound that ran along his right side at the rib level, which bled profusely, leaving a small puddle at his side.

“Yuuri!” he called out in terror, and ran towards him to study him, instantly noticing his labored and complicated breathing. His head, which hung heavily on his chest, rose a few inches, without getting their glances meeting.

“Vi-Viktor?” he muttered breathlessly as the Russian took off his jacket and pressed it against his wound.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t say anything” Viktor sputtered in a trembling voice, trying to stop the bleeding. He then turned around and called: “Chris! Over here!”

The blonde soon appeared with the gun still held up and, the moment he saw the dreadful scene, he rushed to help his boss. Viktor stopped him with a gesture of his hand and instead, he ordered:

“Get the car. We must get him out of here.”

His voice was still shaking a little, but he managed to keep the authoritarian and serious tone that was so characteristic of him. Without a single reproach, as always, Chris turned on his heels and ran out of sight in search of Otabek and the car.

Viktor rested Yuuri’s head on his shoulder and continued whispering reassuring words, although he was not sure if they were directed at the young Japanese man or to himself.

They didn’t have to wait long as the car’s soft purring rumbled through the piles of containers before being seen, imposing, next to the inert bodies of the fallen Diamonds guards. Chris and Otabek got off quickly and helped carry Yuuri’s injured body to the back of the car, where Viktor gently held his head and tied his jacket to the boy’s torso to stop the blood loss and gain a little more time. Without waiting a single second, Chris set the car in motion and they left the port at maximum speed, taking the Road to the Sea to shorten distances and rapidly reaching the high buildings of the city.

Viktor was having too many questions about what had just happened, but he had to wait until later to ask them, which only resulted in distress and many more questions about what the Diamonds members might be thinking (and planning, among other things), since they had clearly stumbled upon a treachery from which they would not be forgiven in the near future.

“The streets are too quiet…” Chris’ voice from the pilot’s seat cut through his thoughts, making him turn his head around sharply to look out of the windows, instantly noticing what his colleague was referring to.

“Keep the guard up” he dictated with seriousness “We don’t know if they’re planning a surprise attack…”

“They are” Yuuri suddenly muttered with a voice that sounded way too distant even for himself. Viktor quieted him down instantly, as if he feared that any word the boy uttered would take his breath away, although that was exactly what it seemed, anyway. Yuuri, however, continued “Most of them fled the area… but I doubt they all sheltered…” he finished with a slight groan of pain.

He was right about that. Viktor knew all too well the behavior of The Diamonds as to believe they all had fled like scared animals without putting up a fight. Minako’s disciples always had an ambush up their sleeve, and tonight was no exception; Viktor had it as clear as the sky that quietly joined them in on their journey.

Chris decided to take an alternate route between the tall buildings surrounding the coast, with the purpose of mislead any member of The Diamonds who might be following them… or waiting for them…

Everything was disturbingly calm, not even the distant murmur of the last cars and people heading home after a long day of work could be heard, so Viktor assumed that The Diamonds had declared an emergency curfew in this part of the city. What an insolence. This was _not_ part of _their_ territory, and Viktor vowed to himself that he would make them understand that detail once and for all, right after Yuuri was well cared for and safe.

The anguish caused his hand to move instinctively to the holster of his gun, where at the same time it rubbed against Yuuri’s damp sweaty hair, and it was then that he realized that the young man had worsened during the course. His breathing had become heavier and it was more and more difficult for him to fill his lungs with air; his face had lost all trace of color and he kept his beautiful eyes tightly closed, as if the dim light from the street lamps coming and going as the car moved were too much for him; and he had started trembling.

When he saw him like this, Viktor knew that nothing good could come out of it, so he rushed Chris and he took another detour that was really a shortcut to the nearest hospital. This route, Viktor recalled, was only known by the members of The Spades, along with its secret passages and unexpected shortcuts, so it shouldn’t be a problem at all and maybe, just maybe, they could take a breath and take a little weight off their shoulders. At least for a few minutes.

This side of the city was quite new, recently built, with various gourmet bakeries which offered a variety of English, French and even Russian desserts that reminded the childhood of many and which were quite popular by the tourists who visited the beaches in summer, especially.

But, of course, circumstances were not in their favor that night, and when they passed a block full of boutiques were expensive scents and designer perfumes were sold, they found the streets blocked by several motorcycles and light trucks that had been deliberately parked in the middle.

Chris slowly stopped the car, and, by instinct, his hand checked that his gun was safe in its holster. Viktor glanced at the group of men standing next to the motorcycles, and he didn’t have to be an expert to distinguish the red insignias embedded in the subjects’ uniforms and jackets. Shit.

Chris took the initiative before his boss and got out of the car with one hand up, the other hovering loosely over the holster of his gun, and Viktor followed him with his gaze until he stood in front of the one that seemed to be the leader of the operation. The Swiss man exchanged a few inaudible words with the Asian and pointed several times at the car, apparently reporting that there was an injured person in between, therefore they were in a bit of a hurry. However, the only response he got was an arrogant smirk and a shake of a head, implying that they were not allowed to cross even if there was a life in danger.

They of course knew _whose_ life it was.

Before such negligence, Chris firmly placed his hand on the stock and insisted on his request which, once again, was denied without regards. Even from the back seat, Viktor could _feel_ Chris’s intimidating and increasingly determined gaze towards the man who was now their enemy (though he always had been, hadn’t he?), and he began to beg all heavens for The Diamonds to compromise and allow them to cross over and get to the hospital. Even if it was just this once.

But mercy was something that the subjects of the relentless Minako were completely unaware of, even less put into practice when it was about their enemies, so the discussion between Chris and the subject would never bear fruit, and the Swiss began to visibly lose patience, just like Viktor, who wanted to get out of the car and gouge out the eyes of everyone who interfered in his way to save Yuuri, and then incinerate each and every one of the cars and motorcycles that were blocking their path.

And he would’ve done so, had it not been for Yuuri’s suddenly frantic coughing, convulsing with every gasp of air he tried to recover; and in the process he seemed to choke, causing a new wave of puffs in which he began to spit blood on the floor of the car.

In desperation, Viktor rolled down the window and pulled out his head.

“Chris!” he roared in a husky voice, and the sound reverberated through the tall buildings surrounding them.

It only took a second for hell to break loose, and everyone shot at once.

Inside the car, Yuuri convulsed one last time before losing consciousness.


	2. Chapter 1: Ars Longa, Vita Brevis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art, science is enduring, but life is short. This expression is used to indicate that any important task requires much effort and time; but the life of the one who undertakes it is short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!  
> I'm sorry for the long wait. This chapter was planned to be posted last weekend, but several things happened and I couldn't meet my self-imposed deadline.
> 
> Anyways, I just wanted to thank everyone who read my story and I'm hoping to post chapter 2 sooner.
> 
> The song Yuuri pole dances to is Lady GaGa's Poker Face.
> 
> Enjoy!

Yuuri never imagined he would enter a place like this. Perhaps not so much because of its dimensions, which were already considerable enough, but because of its hosts.

It was probably the largest social hall he’d ever seen in his life, and perhaps also the darkest he’d ever entered. It was understandable, however, the lack of lights in this place: it was a private party organized by and for the members of the wealthiest band in the city of Hasetsu, The Spades, whose leader, the respectable Mister Nikiforov, was a man whose name and territories were known to all, but never his face.

Yuuri had heard rumors from all over about this mysterious man: that he was as tall as a lamppost; that his gaze could freeze hell itself; that he had the strength to knock down a tree… But Yuuri didn’t believe in any of them. The only people who knew Mr. Nikiforov directly were the most important members of The Spades (because not even his lackeys had seen his face), and they always acted undercover and didn’t go around giving details of their boss.

In any case, he wasn’t expecting to serve Mr. Nikiforov tonight, but his colleagues and subordinates, who were celebrating the opening of a new shopping street (whose secret roads were only known by the members of The Spades) with an elegant banquet accompanied by jazz music and the highest quality gourmet food.

Yuuri lost himself in his thoughts as he finished organizing the champagne-colored table linens of the background, thinking that, even if Mr. Nikiforov were present tonight, Yuuri would probably be locked in the kitchen helping with the dishes of the 100 diners invited to the luxurious dinner.

When he finished, Yuuri took a moment to admire the event hall, which was only a few details away from being perfect. The place itself looked great: flowers of all species brightened the walls and centerpieces of the tables with sober tones of yellow, white and pink; the chairs matched the tables and were decorated with pale gold ribbons. Next to the walls there were numerous candelabras with not-yet-lit candles, and the staff members were installing the lights that would illuminate the center of the room, where a large space had been left free for a dance floor around a metallic pole dance tube, for a cheerful dance that would take place around midnight just after the end of the dinner, according to the activities plan.

And that activities plan also indicated that, right now, Yuuri had to go to the kitchen to help for the rest of the night, before putting on his waiter’s uniform.

As time passed by, the room filled with the noise of excited voices reverberating through the high walls until it reached Yuuri’s ears, who could feel the nervousness flowing through his veins, causing a slight tremor in his fingertips that deconcentrated him from cleaning the glasses in the way his boss had so strictly instructed.

Shaking his head, the young man tried to focus in the delicate crystals on the table in front of him, preventing his mind from drifting to that dark place where he knew that, if he allowed his nerves to take the lead, they’d become a problem that would most likely make him a fool of himself in front of the subordinates of the respectable Mr. Nikiforov, which would not only be shameful, but also possibly lethal.

Yuuri finished carefully cleaning the glasses just in time for his boss to send him serve the dishes. Dinnertime had arrived, sooner than Yuuri had expected. From the outside the murmur of people chatting happily as they waited for their food could be heard, and then the nervousness returned.

_I shouldn’t be so nervous_ , he thought; after all, this was not the first time he had done this. He wouldn’t even have to improvise.

He went out to the corridor leading to the enormous hall and took a deep breath as he reviewed in his mind the tables he was assigned to attend to. None of them were any closer to the solitary table at the back, which, Yuuri knew, was reserved for the Respected Boss ─as some used to call Mr. Nikiforov─, from where he’d oversee that his elegant party was celebrated without mishaps.

However, knowing that he was closely surrounded by guards and private partners of the city’s most feared band, was able to put anyone’s nerves on edge, so Yuuri simply put one hand on his belt and, after checking that everything was in order, brought out his well-trained, disinterested professional smile and set to work.

The different diners didn’t even look at him as he placed each plate on the tables, and soon his nerves faded with each round. This party was as boring as a funeral. No wonder why nobody ever talked about The Spades’ private parties, after all they weren’t as attractive as they seemed, and it was enough to take a look at the place to know that this wasn’t the first failed party the guests attended.

Even though the room was decorated as if a marriage proposal was being celebrated, the atmosphere itself didn’t leave much to desire. Somewhere in the middle of the evening the entertainers had arrived, and now on the pole dance tube was hanging a scrawny girl whose pale face and absent expression gave the impression that she was dancing asleep, suspended in the air only by inertia. In a far corner there was a quartet of violinists whose melody could put a lion to sleep, and the people spoke so softly that Yuuri thought for a moment that he was in a real burial.

Terrified with the scene, he waited for the diners to finish their meal, then went to the bar and without asking for permission, he filled the glasses (which he had cleaned so carefully) with an expensive imported champagne and set out to distribute them among the guests.

_“Let’s cheer these people up a bit”_

Some diners, the most refined ones, were surprised with the gesture, but they accepted their glasses anyway without saying a word. Apparently, this kind of parties stuck quite a bit to protocol and skipping a step on the activities list was considered a barbarity, but Yuuri did not shy away. He’d been very nervous for the most part of the evening, and now he was being called to action: he was to give these people with elegant hairstyles and expensive dresses a unique experience in their lives.

“Yuuri!” his boss screamed at him when he came back to the bar for another bottle “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The young man ignored her and finished serving the next round. Turning to return to the sea of distinguished and boring guests, he turned his head around and said:

“Turning up the party” and with a wink, he walked away.

From the corridor could be heard the frenzied screams of the old lady, but Yuuri was so satisfied with himself to be disturbed by it. Instead, he cheerfully offered another round of drinks to the enthusiasts who had already finished their first glass, and the hall was soon filled with lively murmurs with increasing volume, silencing even the lackluster violinists who ended up leaving the place with the little they had left of dignity, and whose presence no one missed.

Well, no one, except for a blurred figure that moved from side to side near the table at the back, accompanied by a smaller, deformed figure at their feet that followed them without regards.

Yuuri stared at them for a moment, wondering what their charge would be and whether he should be cautious and keep his distance. However, the murmur of people getting up and heading to the dance floor just as electronic music began to play from the loudspeakers distracted him, making him turn his gaze and moving out of the middle to give them more space.

He went to the bar once more but was soon assaulted by several women with too much makeup asking him to dance with them.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to dance” he apologized pitifully, getting rid of them and resuming his way to the bar. He had to repeat the apology when a couple more women -and even a man who had clearly had more than two drinks- asked him the same thing, and by the time he reached the bar, his mind was exhausted.

A cold sweat ran down his back and he leaned over the counter, unable to shake off that terrible feeling of being watched, of being exposed. He took several deep breaths, trying to recover the breath he had lost somewhere along the way, and it was then that he felt something cold and wet lightly touching his ankles. With a flinch he looked down and found the most adorable creature in the place: a standard caramel-colored poodle that curiously sniffed his shoes, and at such a sight all his nerves and worries migrated to an unknown place.

“Vicchan?” he called confused but didn’t took long to realize that his puppy -who was much smaller- hadn’t been invited to the boring party.

He crouched and stroked the animal cautiously, happy to know that the dog was friendly, and smiled at him has he scratched behind his ears.

“Hello, little friend…” he murmured, reading the small dog tag hanging from the animal’s red collar “Makkachin?”

Was this Mr. Nikiforov’s famous watchdog? Yuuri had imagined him more… aggressive. Intimidating. After all, rumors ensured that no one had a chance once they encountered “the Beast of The Spades”, and that it was better not to approach him.

Well, maybe all those rumors were false, after all.

The dog licked his hand in a gesture that Yuuri recognized as consent, which meant that he somehow liked the not-so-aggressive little animal. Laughing to himself, he got up and filled one of the clean glasses with some of the opened champagne, drinking it carelessly and stroking the dog’s crown, thinking that at least something _good_ has happened today. And besides, his shift as a waiter has finished.

The people on the dancefloor seemed to be losing their mood, and Yuuri began to feel again that oppressive sensation at the back of his neck, which brought a new wave of nerves with it that not even the silent presence of the dog managed to appease.

So, he did what he knew best at times like this. He drank the glass in one go and filled it again, drinking this one so fast that he was already starting to get dizzy. Without a care, he served another glass again and again, until he lost count after the fifth, and his head began to register fewer faces and accusing looks until they became colorful and shapeless figures in the distance.

The music came to life again, and it sounded so tempting in his ears that his whole body began to vibrate with contained energy and every fiber of his being screamed to jump to the dancefloor.

Giving in to his desires, he removed his tie and apron and left them carefully behind the bar, not noticing the sudden absence of the dog. Not noticing the figure that approached him stealthily.

Once on the dancefloor, he let himself be carried away by the rhythmic beat of the music and showed his best moves to the audience, leaving behind all his inhibitions and letting the alcohol take care of everything. He definitely was going to have fun tonight.

_This is probably the first and last party of The Spades I’ll attend to, so might as well have a great time while it lasts._

His eyes drifted from time to time towards the pole dance tube standing upright behind him. Every time he turned or bent back dramatically, the temptation to climb onto that metal tube boiled in his veins like hot oil, and it was only until the music grew stronger that he decided to climb once and for all.

_Let’s devastate this refined people_

He glanced at his audience and then headed for the tube sensually, catching a certain glow to his right through the corner of his eye. As he took the pole with one hand, he noticed that the glow came from a pair of very polished shoes resting one on top of the other, as if their owner were sitting cross-legged, right in the corner of the solitary table at the back of the room.

Yuuri’s drunken mind suddenly wondered if that subject had been there the whole time… and if he was still alive…

Those questions disappeared as soon as a different song began to play through the speakers, and Yuuri lost himself completely in it. He grabbed the pole with one hand and began to rotate around it, with delicate, sensual movements that mixed with the song. He wanted to make a first demonstration of strength and beauty, but as he lifted one of his legs, he noticed that his pants stood uncomfortably in the way.

Following the rhythm, he descended on the tips of his feet and, once down, unbuttoned the offensive piece of clothing and, with one pull, slid it down his legs and threw it somewhere in the middle of the dancefloor. The audience, which was starting to warm up, cheered him on. Yuuri stood slowly, arching his back to give it a more erotic effect, and this time he climbed the tube unimpeded.

Once up, he held his legs and arched his back down, accompanying the movement with an arm for more drama, and then stretched both legs, hanging parallel to the pole, and twisted a couple of times in it. People screamed excitedly, and Yuuri felt a wave of pride and excitement that motivated him to continue the improvised show.

He made a couple more movements to demonstrate the strength (and firmness, amongst other things) of his toned legs to the rhythm of the music, before making a deadly twist on the pole and hanging on his head supported only by one leg. He had lifted the sleeves of his shirt to a little more below the shoulders, so he used the grip allowed by his arms and, with one of them flexed, made a pirouette in the air and landed with a perfect split right as the song reached the chorus.

On the floor, he flaunted his exceptional dance steps once more, caressing his face in a waste of sensuality and his arms found the pole again, rising above it with such ease that it seemed he was wearing a harness. He made several slightly more aggressive moves in the second verse of the song, just as a tall figure emerged from the shadows, staring at him.

Yuuri held himself with his hands above his head and, arching back and head, he twisted like a ballerina, accompanying each beat of the music with his sensual, aggressive and delicate moves, all at the same time, as if that song -that he knew so well- lived within his being and came to life with every movement, with every dance step that he performed and stirred the public, vibrating with every musical note making his body feel aflame.

He glanced at the figure staring at him and from the top of the pole he could distinguish the defined features of that man. He was tall enough to contemplate Yuuri without lifting his head too much; his hair was short, rich at the crown and ash blonde. His eyes, framed by long black eyelashes, were the color of jade, and sparkled full of excitement despite having a neutral expression on his eyebrows. His mouth was a thin line of delicate lips that he occasionally moistened with his tongue from time to time, thus demonstrating his complete admiration for the guy in the tube.

Was that the respected Mr. Nikiforov? The way he tilted his head to accommodate his calculating gaze somehow told Yuuri that that guy in the shadows was an important member among The Spades, and he wouldn’t be surprised at all that those jade-colored eyes belonged to the most powerful man in the city.

Yuuri, however, had no time to wander around in such things. The public was too excited to take a break and the song hadn’t even reached the second chorus, so Yuuri decided to put on his best mask and kept on dancing with overwhelming sensuality, trying to seduce the mand in the shadows with the intention of delighting him in such a way that he wouldn’t want to kill him later, just after having turned his honorable party into a complete den full of uncontrolled people.

So, he made his movements more aggressive as the rhythm of the music increased to the chorus, until his legs started kicking the air around him and his head was thrown back dramatically, and his eyes winked and accompanied smug smiles directed at the handsome Mr. Nikiforov who gazed at him without blinking.

By the time the song reached the bridge and last chorus, Yuuri felt complete on fire. He knew that the entire room watched him and for once in his life he didn’t care. His body spun perfectly aligned with the pole in a frenzy, and the excess of alcohol in his system eased the most difficult of pirouettes, leaving the audience breathless and wanting more. Demanding for more.

That was it. He had made not only that vibrant song his own, but the party and the whole night. Now he could check it off the wish list he never imagined he would have.

His movements synchronized one last time with the final notes of the song and he ended up with one hand above his head holding the pole, his back arched with one leg on the ground and the other delicately resting on the pole, and his head thrown back with his mouth half open, panting hard. A pose that no doubt had left excited even the most straight of all present.

The applause and cheers didn’t take long and Yuuri thanked his enthusiastic public with a slight inclination. Maybe that would be all for tonight.

Exhausted, he returned to the bar and dropped himself on one of the stools, took a half-full glass of champagne and drank it in one go, regardless of whether it was someone else’s leftover drink, and it was then that he realized he hadn’t picked up his pants.

Laughing under his breath, he turned around with one arm still resting on the smooth surface of the bar, when a young boy with long gold-colored hair approached him holding a pair of black pants and half-mount glasses in his hands. Yuuri gave himself a pair of light pats on the face instinctively and discovered that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. When had he taken them off?

“Hello!” the young man greeted, stretching the pants and glasses towards him “Wow, you were on fire over there at the dancefloor! I swear we’ve never had such a fun party in years!”

“Ha! Really?” he asked with a faint, breathless laugh, taking back the clothing and glasses.

“Absolutely!” corroborated the young man “Most of the parties we have are usually so boring that you can hardly call them ‘parties’ at all. There are so many fancy people and so much protocol in them that sometimes I think we are more in a military parade than in an event where you are supposed to have fun” he waved a hand in front of him “But that’s not interesting. What _is_ interesting is _you_ ; now tell me, where did you learn to dance so good?”

“Oh, you see, I grew up in a place where…” Yuuri began with a carefree voice, without measuring his words, but they were soon interrupted by a tall figure approaching behind the blonde, at a steady pace and inscrutable expression. Noticing him, the young boy jumped up and waving his arm again, said goodbye

“Ah… excuse me. I just remembered that I have something to do and…” he vanished, giving a furtive glance at the jade-eyed mand who approached without stopping.

Yuuri paid no attention to the weak excuse of the blond young boy and focused his fearful gaze on the tall man who stood before him, staring at him as if he were a beggar in need of help.

Yuuri prepared himself to be kicked out of the place along with a threat that he would not set foot in this territory again, which he would gladly obey.

Tonight, had undoubtedly meant the end of his employment contract.

Then the man spoke in a deep and firm voice:

“Mr. Nikiforov wants to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> Feel free to send asks or make suggestions at my Tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> Your comments and kudos make my life happy n.n
> 
> If you have any suggestions or questions feel free to visit my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/luna-nya)


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